


Reprieve

by RealmOfBlue



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is Not Okay, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I just want Dimitri to get some help honestly, LATER, My Unit | Byleth Has Emotions, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tea, but can we all agree Dimitri totally had a crush on Byleth the entire time?, chamomile to the rescue!, especially Dimitri, he’s low-key schizophrenic, okay...high-key, one: she loves her students, she only knows two things—, that doesn’t mean she isn’t completely confused by them, two: they all need tea + therapy, which is why this isn’t overly shippy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28253649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealmOfBlue/pseuds/RealmOfBlue
Summary: Dimitri’s headaches aren’t the kind magic can fix. Byleth heals him anyway.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	Reprieve

**Author's Note:**

> Little late for Dimi’s birthday, but here’s a...thing I wrote. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Fair warning: It’s been a while since I played Three Houses and I can’t remember details to save my life.

Byleth isn’t used to interpreting those strange stirrings in her chest; but if she had to guess, she’d say she’s worried. About Dimitri, specifically. 

He’s hasn’t been...himself, lately—not since Remire Village. It’s subtle, but she’s kept a close eye on him since it happened, and what she’s seen isn’t exactly reassuring.

For one, he’s not eating much—or sleeping, if the faint bags under his eyes are any indication—and to top it all off, his headaches are getting worse. Just today, he had been wincing during her lecture, a faraway look in his eyes. She’d pestered him a bit before he admitted he wasn’t feeling well, and then dismissed him to his quarters, intending to send Manuela there after class was over. 

Now, as she gathers her things from her desk, she wonders if she should be the one to check on him instead. _I want him to know he can talk to me. That’s part this whole professor thing, right?_ _But Manuela’s a better healer than I am..._ She sighs internally. _I don’t know. I wish I was cut out for this._

Despite her apprehension, she still finds herself at Dimitri’s door, hand clenched and ready to knock. She never actually gets around to it, though.

“Just...go away...please,” comes a low murmur from inside, “not right now.”

Byleth’s brow furrows. _Is he talking to me? How would he know I’m here?_ She feels her heart squeeze, alarm bells going off in her head. “Dimitri?” she tries.

There’s a shuffling noise. She’s almost surprised when the door creaks open and Dimitri shows up, a polite smile plastered on his face. “Professor?” He ducks his head. “I, ah, apologize for inconveniencing you today. Have you need of me?”

Byleth can tell that he’s trying his best to act normal, but the crease in his brow and the paleness of his face give him away. “No need for an apology. I came to see if you’re okay.”

“Oh.” He looks far too surprised by the notion. Is she really doing that bad a job? His gaze drifts to the floor awkwardly as he gathers his composure. “It’s really nothing you should be concerned about, professor.”

She shakes her head. “I disagree. Do you still have a headache?”

“I’m afraid it hasn’t gone away completely.” He admits, placing a hand to his forehead. She’s not sure if the gesture stemmed from discomfort or disappointment. “But I can assure you, I’m fine.” 

“Can I come in?” 

Dimitri gives her a dumbfounded look. 

“I know healing magic.” Byleth explains, unsure how he’d forgotten. “If you’re in pain—”

Dimitri protests before she can even finish her sentence. “Professor, that’s kind of you, but...your efforts would only be wasted on a simple headache like this.”

“Nonsense. I’m more than happy to help you, Dimitri.” She gestures to the chair behind him, using her commander voice. “Now, sit.”

He reluctantly obeys, tensing when her hands come to rest gently on the sides of his head. The shuddering breath he releases concerns Byleth. _Does it cause him pain when I touch him?_ She’s never had a headache (or at least she doesn’t think she has) so she’s not certain. “Sorry.” She says softly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Of course not...it’s just...comforting.” 

Byleth smiles to herself. _He must think it’s already working, but...I haven’t even channeled my magic yet. I guess human contact is healing in and of itself._ She feels lighter now that she’s finally able to help him. Taking a deep breath, she activates the spell, and her hands emit a warm, green glow. She searches for the root of the ache, but for some reason, it escapes her grasp.

Strange. She hasn’t cured a headache before; though according to Manuela, it’s entirely possible. Is she doing this wrong? Or are headaches only numbed by magic and not removed?

She shifts her focus to Dimitri. He’s relaxed now, thankfully, eyes closed as he slouches (as much as a prince possibly can, anyway) in his chair. It’s nice...seeing him so at peace. 

“Feeling any better?” she asks. 

Dimitri sighs. “Much, much better.”

“I’m glad.” Byleth hums. Her tone is actually bright for once. _I suppose it worked after all...._

With that, she ends the treatment, a vague sort of exhaustion settling in her bones. She almost wishes she hadn’t when she sees Dimitri automatically stiffen after she draws her hands away.

Then, to her great confusion, he abruptly stands and gives her a curt half-bow. “Thank you, professor.”

Byleth bites back a chiding remark at his formalness, touched as she is by his gratitude. “I don’t need any thanks for helping my student...much less for helping my friend.”

“I must thank you nonetheless, professor,” he concludes. “You...are a light in such a dark world.”

Byleth breaks into a rare smile. His words build such a warmth inside her that she can no longer keep it keep it to herself. And her heart jumps in her chest when he beams back.

But his expression falters.

She’s not a stranger to the troubled look on his face. It’s the very look she thought she had banished only moments ago. _Dimitri...what are you hiding from me?_

“Were you...talking to someone earlier?” she asks, trying to come off as nonchalant.

Dimitri immediately blanches. “Why would—" He starts, but catches himself midway, hanging his head. It’s silent for a moment. Byleth wishes she could see Dimitri’s expression, but his hair covers his face as he refuses to look at her.

“I…I owe you an apology, Professor.”

Byleth cocks her head; she’s even more worried now. “What for?”

“I allowed you to squander your time on me,” he says quietly. Byleth tries to her mouth to argue, he holds a hand up to stop her. 

It’s trembling. 

“Please, let me speak.” He retracts his hand, clenching his fists at his sides. “The truth is, I…I hear them, sometimes. My family.”

He swallows thickly. “Their ghosts call out, scream for justice, and I can do nothing to quiet them. They get so loud, I—well, I began to pass it off as a headache to avoid concern. So…when I revisited those flames, their voices started to drown out everything else and....” He stops himself, hand coming to his forehead once more. “I hope you can forgive me.”

Byleth stares at him, unable to formulate words. _All this time...he’s been suffering alone and I...._

Her mind flashes to the battle in Remire Village. The Dimitri she saw that day...those voices in his head...his desire for revenge.... How long had he let this consume him, while she had only seen the light-hearted, untroubled side of Dimitri—the perfect prince he pretended to be?

“I’m truly sorry, professor.” Dimitri jumps into an apology when her response isn’t immediate. “I understand if you’re angry—"

“Look at me, Dimitri.” She grips his arm, urging him to lift his face. He inhales as his glassy eyes meet hers, shoulders relaxing at her gentleness. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Dimitri blinks at her, his expression a mixture of confusion and guilt—old, deep guilt that found its way in and never left.

He doesn’t believe her.

Byleth wonders how long it will take for her to convince him that he isn’t always the one at fault; that he has no reason to blame himself for such a tragedy; that he can live and breathe and still be a victim.

“Is there anything that quiets...them?”

Dimitri looks away again. “Well, it’s worse when I’m alone...and when I have the opportunity, I find a warm cup of tea to be helpful.”

_Great. I probably did the worst thing I could possibly do by sending him to his quarters. Alone._

“Let’s have some, then,” Byleth suggests, “I recently bought some chamomile.”

It eases her mind a little to see Dimitri brighten up at the mention of chamomile. “That sounds...wonderful.” But even with a less somber expression on his face, he seems unbelievably tired. 

Byleth hopes the tea will help. 

They return to his quarters with two cups full of scalding hot chamomile to enjoy together. There’s a comfortable atmosphere, despite the slight awkwardness that the situation brings. When Dimitri wants to talk, Byleth listens intently, and when he doesn’t, she fills the silence as best as she can.

Dimitri sips his tea, occasionally wincing, sometimes because of the temperature, and sometimes for other reasons, but Byleth pretends not to notice. The tea is lovely...soothing and warm, with a light, earthy flavor. It reminds her of the nights she spent by a campfire with her father.

Before she knows it, her cup is empty. Dimitri thanks her again, a calmness in his manner that wasn’t there before. 

From then on, they have afternoon tea together nearly every day. The tradition never dies—even after five years apart, they find themselves settling back into their old routine; later, rather than sooner, but it happens. And, ever so slowly, they heal.

Byleth hoped the tea would help...and she’s not disappointed. It just takes a long, long, time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ^_^ I’m eternally grateful for kudos! And comments! And bookmarks! I’m not picky. Heck, I’m happy even if you just skimmed—as long as it entertained you in some form or fashion.


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